The Descent is Swift
by Moonfire Wolfe
Summary: When a teenage boy, who just so happens to be a mutant turtle, wakes up in the dark, with no idea how he got there, or who he is, he tends to be afraid. But he really has nothing to fear. Yet. An alphabet fic for Halloween. Very dark. Don't like, don't read. You have been warned.
1. Amnesia

Amnesia

His first tangible memory was of darkness. His head hurt more than he had ever imagined it could, and he had no idea why. He shifted his body, realising that he was sitting against a wall, on a cold, hard floor. His wrists were encircled by metal rings, held together by more metal.

'How did I get here...?' He tried to make out shapes in the darkness, to no avail. It was so dark, he felt as if he was being crushed by it. '...wait, ...who am I...?!'

In that moment, he realised that he had no idea who he was, or where he was, or what was happening. In that moment, he experienced fear for what felt like the first time, his heart beginning to race in his chest. His body shivered, and a whimper of fear escaped him. How could he not know who he was? It was so utterly impossible, so horrifying, that he could only sit, shuddering, on the coldness that was the floor.

"Oh, good. You're awake." He jumped at the sound of a bitter, feminine voice, echoing from somewhere in the darkness. "We can get started."

"Who are you? What's going on?!" He shouted, twisting around in fear.

"Now, why would I tell you that?" She, whoever she was, laughed with a sharp tang to the edge of her voice, "After everything you've done to my family, I really don't think you deserve to be told anything, Leo." He frowned in confusion.

"Who's Leo? What did I do?" He looked around again, tears forming in his eyes. "I don't understand!"

"I think I'll leave you to your memories for now-"

"What memories?! I can't remember anything! Please, what's going on?!"

His plea was met with deafening silence.

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Thoughts?


	2. Bedlam

Onwards. I don't own them. Honest.

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Bedlam

He could not fall asleep. He tried, honestly, he did, curling against the wall and shutting his aching eyes. His headache had gotten worse, as if someone was driving a long, barbed nail into his skull with slow, deliberate strikes.

Then, the noises started to emerge from the silence.

The first was a soft dripping, perhaps water escaping a broken pipe. He shifted against the wall. The noise made him uneasy, for reasons he couldn't explain. Then, a skitter of claws against stone, to his left. He tried to jerk away, his breathing going just a little uneven as his eyes roved the pitch darkness. He could not find the source, try as he might, even when he heard the skitter again, closer and louder than the first time.

It was the scream that really sent him into a panic, though. It was high, and dreadful, and so very desperate. Wordless, and in unholy agony. He forced his back against the wall, looking around with terrified eyes.

'What's going on? What's happening?'

He realised, noted, and momentarily dismissed the fact that there was a hard, rounded growth on his back, like a shell. He knew somehow that it was right, and didn't matter. Ignoring this, he had no choice but to listen to the screaming, his whole body quaking with fear. He listened as it was forced higher and higher, until the voice cracked, and gurgled off, leaving silence.

He knew then that he would not be able to sleep. Not until he was far away from the silence, that was broken only by the dripping of what he could only _hope_ was water.


	3. Cannibal

Here's chapter 3. Fair warning; if you're squeamish about blood and gore, you might not want to read this chapter. Remember, this is a horror fic. It's meant to be brutal and terrifying.

Onward.

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Cannibal

It took him, in his dazed, semi-concious state, a minute to realise that the new, nearly deafening sound he was hearing was the opening of a rusted metal door. It was followed by the dull thud of a body hitting the ground, and what he presumed was the door closing again.

Before he knew what was happening, a snarling, spitting thing had charged him, knocking him down with the force of a charging bear. His shell (he'd decided at some point, alone in the dark, that 'shell' was the word for the thing) slammed into the ground with a sickening crack. Pain radiated through his shell, and his skull as it struck next. He gasped in pain, and shock, barely able to make out the glint of eyes and teeth, mere inches from his face. It, whatever it was, had breath that reeked of fetid meat. Five fingered hands groped at his struggling body as the creature hissed and growled at his panicked whimpers.

Was it human? He honestly could not tell.

But then, sharp, jagged, burning pain ripped through his bicep. He screamed, in blind, hopeless agony, as the creature ripped a chunk of bloody, mangled flesh from his shoulder, rending flesh from bone with its teeth. Sobbing, he tried frantically to kick the snarling mass off, flailing helplessly under its heavy, muscular form. It snarled, grabbing his neck in an animalistic warning. He could finally make out the face; blood dripped from its grinning mouth, and he could see his own flesh between the teeth, the very human teeth, as it let out a guttural chuckle.

It then leapt out of sight, as he gasped and choked on his terrified sobs. He tried desperately to see the thing, but his eyes had not been made to see in this total darkness. It was invisible. Hunting him, and his arm hurt SO BAD- He heard a rustle, but wasn't quick enough in moving to get his left leg away from the beast. As its teeth clamped down, tearing his leg apart, he screamed once more before completely blacking out.

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Thoughts?


	4. Distension

sO. hERE YA GO.

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**Distension**

He was drowning. His first conscious thought was that he could NOT breath, that water was pouring into his mouth, into his nostrils, that he was choking on the stuff. He coughed, opening his eyes and instantly shutting them again with a muffled cry. The brightness against his eyes was nearly as painful as the water pouring into his mouth. He screamed, even as the water continued to flood his nose and airways, and tried to swallow the water, to get it away from his burning lungs.

"Well, well. Welcome back to the land of the living." The voice from before rang in his ears as he pulled and struggled against the bonds, water still cascading over his face. He opened his eyes, despite the pain, determined to see his tormentor.

She was very beautiful, in a deadly sort of way. He grey eyes glittered in the same manner as ice. Her fair hair was bound in a practical braid. Her clothes were simplistic, grey and practical. And her smile was hatred and glory, in a venomous package that bit his terrified soul. All this he took in, in the instant before more water poured onto his face in a blinding sheet.

"Still playing dumb with me, Leo?" Her voice seemed far away. He realised that the water was soaking a cloth tied over his face, smothering him as he desperately swallowed to keep from drowning, "Still claiming you don't know why this is happening?" He shook his head as much as he could, catching a glimpse of his left hand. He froze in shock; it was green, with only 2 fingers and a thumb. Somehow it was right, but still shocking. "Now, come on. Why would you do even try that?" He looked at her; still smiling, but perplexed now. She held the hose that was currently dousing his face with water. "Really, after what you did to me? You are _such _an _idiot_." She moved the hose, allowing him a few quick breaths, and a muffled,

"What?!" He looked at her in terror and confusion, so lost in the emptiness that should have been his memories that he forgot to breath in before the hose was back on his face. He gasped, trying to pull in air, but only got water, burning his lungs. He started swallowing again, tears leaving his eyes as he thrashed in wild panic. He couldn't keep drinking. His stomach was going to explode, he felt so sick, it hurt so bad, he _couldn't, _he was going to _drown._ He was going to die, right here, water pouring onto his face. He was gonna drown, hewasgonnadrown, he was gonna DROWN-

Even as his brain started to fuzz and fizzle out, the water stopped, leaving him coughing and choking on the water still in his throat that he couldn't swallow.

Then, she punched him. In the stomach. And again. And again. And again.

He couldn't stop himself from throwing up, not only all the water, but his last meal. He instantly knew that she had no intention of giving him food.

"Oh, poor Leo. You must feel _awful_. Here, have a drink." She cackled maliciously as she directed the hose at his face again. He screamed in terror, but he didn't even have the energy left to move. He choked again, pure terror touching his heart when he realised that she didn't mean for him to die.

Yet.


	5. Emaciated

hERE'S A SHORT CHAPTER.

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**Emaciated**

He didn't know how long ago her guards had dragged his body back to the black room. He wasn't sure about time at all by that point. A few days, surely, had passed.

His stomach hurt so _bad_.

He couldn't believe how bad the hunger pains had become. Sharp pangs in his gut, made all the sharper by his recent torture, and the abuse that it had wrought on his body, raked him. His body felt weak, so weak that he couldn't sit up. All he could do was curl up on his side and pray. He didn't know who or what he was praying to. Only what he was praying for.

Death.

It was clear that the woman meant to keep hurting him, torturing him, and keeping him alive for more 'fun' later. He had enough presence of mind to pray that she would go just a little too far and kill him. Drowning, only to suffer through her cruel mockery of CPR, and now this horrible hunger, not to mention the attack of the beast before all that had happened, had set terror through him like nothing he had ever experienced.

His stomach growled, sending a shiver of pain through him. He whimpered weakly, clutching at his shrunken belly, as he tried to find sleep.

He knew it would not come; hunger worked strange tricks upon the mind.

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Yes, it's short. The the next chapter will be long. Midterm week, so bear with me, my lovelies! Keep the reviews coming; the more I see, the faster I write.

Moony


	6. Flammable

As promised, a big chapter to celebrate the end of my exams. Warning: this chapter may scare you. It's a little peek into the mind of Leo's not so friendly host. Not to mention serious pain for Leo.

Enjoy and send in your reviews! The more reviews, the faster I write. Cheers!

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**Flammable**

He was still awake when the guards came for him. He drew back, into the nearest corner, a look of fear on his now-drawn features. When they moved forward to grab him by the arms, he tried to bolt, forgetting his injured leg until it was bringing him crashing to the ground with a choked sob. He managed to rise to his knees, his face stinging horribly from the impact with the ground, but couldn't scramble forward before he was caught.

He hated his instincts. So much.

He whimpered softly, trying to struggle free, and one of the three sent to collect him started laughing.

"Hold 'im still fer a sec, guys."

"Wait, Joey, what're ya thinkin'?" One of the men still holding onto him looked unnerved, "Amy'll kick yer sorry ass three ways to next Wednesday if ya take a swing at 'im." He looked at the man in front of him in terror. The blonde boy, he was a boy, really, smirked, as he brought a fist back, laughing.

"Nah, I think she'll be cool with it. You saw it on the news same as me. You know her beef with this freak." He punched the captive in the gut, repeatedly. He knew how much pleasure the captor was deriving from his withering form hanging between the others.

"Boys." The three of them started as the woman walked in, turning. He raised his head, looking at her. She was glaring. "How many times? He's MINE, do you _idiots _understand?!" She slapped the man who had punched him, and grabbed the fallen man by the throat as he watched in terror. The man screamed as she crushed his throat, slowly strangling him. "Do you UNDERSTAND?" The man nodded meekly, his hands fisting in the air. She let him fall, and turned back to her captive. "Bring him. We're going to have _so much fun."_

He was marched through the non-descript, grey stone hallways, his injured leg in flaming agony. His stomach was a constant ache, like a deep bruise all down his front. He could barely keep going, the pain he felt was so great. He just wanted to rest-

"Tie him up there." He jerked his head up at the sound of her voice. He hadn't been paying attention, and now he gaped in horror at what he was seeing in front of him.

It was a stake. Like witches used to be burned at in centuries past. He jerked against the men holding him. No way was he going to let her do this. No way in _hell_. He might not want to live, but he didn't want to die like _this_.

'Oh, god. No, please, NO!' He thought, struggling, but he wasn't strong enough, and he soon stood with his shell against the wooden pole, his feet on a wooden platform. They had jerked the ropes so tight that his hands and feet were going numb, the cords cutting into his flesh. He choked on his bitter sobs, mentally recanting every death wish he had uttered in the darkness of his cell. 'I don't want to die!'

"Hamato Leonardo, you are accused of the murder of my brother, Jacques Norman. For this crime, you have been sentenced to burn at the stake until dead. How do you plead?" He looked at her in horror; this was wrong! He hadn't done anything! This couldn't be happening; surely, this was a dream. A nightmare.

"Please, I don't know what you're talking about! I swear, I honestly don't know!" He sobbed, his eyes clouding with tears, "Please, stop this! I didn't do anything! PLEASE!"

"You're a liar, Leo."

"Please, _listen to me_! I don't even know who 'Leo' is! I swear_, I don't know_!"

"LIAR." She sneered, and struck a match she was holding against the heel of her boot, holding it for a moment as if considering whether or not to follow through with her plan.

Then, the platform supporting him was on fire. He hadn't realised the smell, so easy to recognize, of gasoline. The soles of his feet were covered in it, and caught almost instantly. He screamed in agony, feeling his flesh blister and burn, feeling the horrible pain as the flames leapt around him, kissing his flesh with little fanged mouths, biting and burning like nothing he had ever felt in his life. The smoke rising around him sent his lungs into spasms, which sent his stomach into another round of sick, twisting pains. All the while, he burned, and screamed as he burned, and sobbed brokenly between his screams.

"Tell me the TRUTH, you worthless _freak_. You know who you are! Tell me, and I'll put the fire out." She shouted her offer above his screams, his pleas for mercy.

"I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP! PL-" His cries were cut off by another round of coughing, as the smoke continued to roil up, a great, oily grey cloud around him. The flames were up to his waist, still only really burning below his knees. He whimpered softly, and let himself fall into the waiting arms of oblivion, allowing the smoke to smother him.

Flesh, he thought at the last, simply isn't _flammable_ enough.


	7. Gangrene

Aww, aren't you all lucky. Here's another chapter.

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**Gangrene**

He was waking up. He felt a sob rip free of his throat, as he realised what that meant.

"I'm alive. I'm _alive_." He wasn't sure how to feel about it. Happy, certainly not. Relieved, maybe. Terrified, oh, that was a definite. How had he survived?

His thought was interrupted when he moved his foot.

He moaned, and what had to be a spasm rocked his body. His leg, his whole lower leg, exploded into a new, terrible agony. It was an agony that was the near absence of pain, when he knew he should be screaming. He could only pray that his other leg wasn't worse. He gingerly reached down, and brushed his fingertips against the bite-wound on his left calf. He could barely stifle the cry of pain; the flesh was swollen and soft, like rotten fruit on a hot summer day, warm and wet to the touch.

'Oh, god. It-It's infected. Oh, _god, _my _leg-_'

For all that he couldn't remember, he did know what was wrong with his leg. Gangrene. More than just an infection, because it meant his own flesh was rotting away. He touched his shoulder, feeling the same sticky heat in that wound. How long had he been unconscious, he had to wonder, for the infection to progress this far? The heat of the wounds told him that at least a few days had passed, and that feeling of timelessness terrified him, beyond all belief. He felt tears on his cheeks, and a sob caught in his throat. What had he done to deserve this? She, Amy, had the man said? She had accused him of murdering her brother. But why? He couldn't remember anything before the darkness of his cell. Who had he been before? She had called him 'Leo'...

He shook his head, a soft sigh leaving him. He didn't know. Maybe he was a killer, maybe not. He let his body slump back to the floor, only realising that he was far too warm right before he passed out again.


	8. Hallucination

So. Fair warning; Leo's starting to lose his grip on reality. Read and review!

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**Hallucination**

"You killed me."

He started awake, blinking in the dark and looking around in panic. The guards, and the woman, were not there. His legs stung, and his head burned. Why was he still so hot, as if he'd never left the fire?

"You _murdered_ me."

He peered through the blackness in confusion. He couldn't see anyone. His head spun in a storm of bewilderment and pain.

"_Murderer_."

Then, he saw him. The young man looked so much like the woman. Fair hair, grey eyes. But a black body-suit, marked with a strange, red symbol, grey 'vest' bound at the waist, and metal shin and forearm guards.

The left side of his hair was dark with half-dried blood.

He pushed himself away from the stranger, ignoring his legs, as the fair haired man studied him. His grey eyes were piercing.

"Why did you kill me, kame tengu?"

He walked towards him, feet barely brushing the ground.

"I don't even know what you're talking about! Who are you?!" He whispered, looking up at the bloodied, pale face.

"You killed me. I was a Foot Soldier. I served Shredder." He glared, "And you _murdered_ me for it." Shredder, foot soldier, the terms were familiar, but he couldn't place them.

"I don't understand."

"How can you not? I tried to kill her, the okami tengu, and you killed me for it." He looked at the bleeding man in confusion, and the man let out a growling sigh, " Wolfe. Her name is Wolfe."

A faint image rang in Leo's brain, a black haired girl with a wolf's snout, and deadly green eyes. Leaning on a green skinned creature like him, with a purple mask around his face. He felt instantly protective of them both. The boy brushed ice cold fingers across his face, drawing his mind away from the vision.

"You're going to die. My sister will never forgive. And she'll never let you go."

He smiled, the same malicious smile that his sister had smiled.

"And I'm going to be with you every moment that she's not. That's a promise."

And with that, his frame twisted into a hideous thing, black, fanged, and screaming, and it leapt towards him.

He cried out, feeling ghostly claws rake his skin. And then, it was gone.

A hallucination? Or something else entirely? He had no idea.

So he sat alone, in the dark, confusion and fear warring in his heart.


	9. Inhale

**Inhale**

It was the faint hissing noise that woke him. His body had collapsed into an uneasy slumber after the bloody boy had vanished. Now, he looked around in fear.

The noise was somehow familiar, as if he'd heard it before. The image of the purple masked one danced in his head, surrounded by machines. One seemed to be making the sound.

'A... gas valve...?' He thought, utterly confused. How could there be a gas valve in his tiny cell?

It was then that he realised the burning pain all over his skin. He groaned as it got worse, feeling like a thousand blisters were popping up all over him, ripping up his already damaged legs, his wounds, and every inch of his skin that had been left alone. It hurt, in the most terrible, burning way, as if he'd been returned to the fire. But it wasn't over.

His lungs were on fire. He was drowning again, he couldn't breathe, oh god, he was dying. His body was shaking violently, convulsing on the floor. A low, panicked whine left him, and he realised that it must be gas, some kind of horrid, burning gas. He fought then, with his own body, trying to hold his breath. If he inhaled any more-

"Oh, come on, murderer." The boy's voice rang in his skull, mocking, as he desperately tried not to breath. He could ignore him, he could- "Just let go, you monster. Just inhale, and it's over. You get to die."

"Leave me ALONE!" He screamed, not realising his mistake until he inhaled.

Everything went horribly fuzzy after that.

He was aware of pain, and the sound of gas stopping, and a mask over his mouth and nose. Al he had to do now was breathe. But he couldn't. And so fuzzy grey faded to black.


End file.
